Highlander Lord of Fire

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Highlander Lord of Fire Page 27

by Donna Fletcher

“We think the same, wife. I’m sure our questions would be the same,” Tarass assured her.

  Snow grew quiet, surprising Tarass. He thought for sure she’d bombard him with questions until they reached their bedchamber.

  “What disturbs you, wife?” he asked, concerned.

  “Thoughts of Fay and how terrible and frightening it must have been for her. And how horrible for Twilla to lose her son. Was he her only child?”

  “I don’t know. I didn’t even know she had a son. I never heard anyone mention him, not even Twilla. I understand why that might be. Losing an only child must have been beyond heartbreaking. She is the only one left here of the original Clan MacFiere. My da did tell me to trust her beyond all others, that she knew all the clan secrets. Though, I’m grateful she didn’t keep this secret.”

  Tarass entered their bedchamber. “Thaw must be worn out. He’s already asleep by the hearth, and Nettle waits with a pleasant smile.”

  Snow had noticed that her husband painted pictures with words for her lately, just as Nettle did. And she loved him all the more for taking the time and being patient so she could see through his eyes. She hoped and prayed with all her heart that her sight would continue to improve so that she could one day see him clearly and also be able to see the many bairns they would have together.

  He placed her on the bed, kissed her, and ordered, “Stay put and be good.”

  She smiled. “I’ll try.”

  Tarass turned to Nettle. “If my wife attempts to leave this room before I return, send Thaw to fetch me.”

  “Aye, my lord,” Nettle said with a smile and got to work on Lady Snow’s knee as soon as Lord Tarass left the room.

  Lord Polwarth was waiting along with Rannock when Tarass entered his solar. With a nod from Tarass, Rannock left.

  “Sit,” Tarass offered and filled two tankards with ale that waited on a sideboard along with a full pitcher. He handed one to Lord Polwarth and took a seat in a chair opposite the man.

  “Is Snow all right? I feel horrible that I hurt her. She’s such a wee bit of a thing, though she has the strength and courage of a mighty warrior,” Polwarth said, his worry evident in his aged eyes that looked anxiously to Tarass.

  He was glad to see the man contrite, or he’d be tempted to land a blow or two on him. “That she does. I couldn’t believe how many times she dared to challenge me as she did. I admire her for her courage.”

  “I am relieved to know that you both love each other. I loved both my wives, but my first wife was my one true love. My heart broke when she died and I don’t believe it ever healed.” Polwarth turned his head, to hide the tear that caught in the corner of his eye.

  Tarass understood. His heart would shatter completely if he ever lost Snow. “Then you know how I felt when you took my wife from me.”

  “I do now,” Polwarth admitted. “And I fear no apology will ever be enough for the harm I’ve caused you and Snow. I only hope someday you both will forgive me.”

  “Snow already has. My forgiveness doesn’t come so easily. I’d rather beat you senseless.”

  “I don’t blame you. I’d feel the same way if I were in your position.”

  “I do appreciate you confronting the Abbot about Angus Macardle. It will ease the burden it brought on my wife. Her da was a good friend to my da and had no reason to harm him or my mum.”

  “I agree. It made no sense when Abbot Bennett told me. I should have realized then the man was a liar and couldn’t be trusted.”

  “What I can’t understand is why you left the pools of blood. Was it to make me look worse in Abbot Bennett’s eyes? Or did you wish to put fear in my clan? And how did you even know about the myth?”

  Polwarth’s brow wrinkled. “I don’t know anything about the pools of blood. Learning about them was a complete shock to me.”

  “I believe you are contrite for what you have done, so why deny the rest?” Tarass asked.

  “I have confessed the whole truth to you and believe me when I tell you how difficult that was to admit, especially to myself and at my age. And to realize what a fool I’ve been. My father had told me to let it go. Even when Fay died, he warned me again that it would do no good to continue to carry her pain and that my sister would never want me to. He should have confessed the truth to me, though he probably was too shamed by Fay’s actions to do so.” He shook his head. “Snow was right about grudges. They do more harm than good, especially when lies hide the truth.”

  Tarass thought of his parents. “Do you know if this matter with your sister had anything to do with my parents leaving Scotland?”

  “I don’t see how since the whole ordeal was kept between your family and my father and mother. And it wasn’t until years later that your family left.”

  “Abbot Bennett knew and he knew more than you did,” Tarass said.

  “True, but only because he heard my sister’s confession. He wouldn’t have dared said anything to anyone for fear of losing support for his monastery. Many clans in the area had been surprised when your parents fled and that was how it seemed. That they fled as if fearful and running from something. And your father was too much of a fierce warrior to flee from anything.”

  Tarass had heard that about his da and had seen it for himself in battle. He had been a fierce and skilled warrior, taking men down with little effort. Tarass didn’t think he’d ever come close to the powerful warrior his da had been. So why would a fierce warrior flee? And whatever could his parents have done that got them killed?

  “Snow is like your da. She’s kind and caring, but wrong her and she turns into a ferocious warrior. Did you know when no one would go into the burning room in the keep where her da had set a fire to rescue him, she ran in not even pausing to think about it? It was what caused her blindness. The funny thing was that her father often said to me, when in his right mind, ‘Winton’s son Tarass would be perfect for my Snow’. I thought him mad, but I now wonder if he saw something that I had failed to see.”

  Tarass was pleased to know that Snow’s da would have approved of their marriage.

  “You and your men are welcome to stay the night. While Abbot Bennett and his crew will make it to the monastery shortly after darkness falls, night would descend on you well before you reach home,” Tarass said.

  “And the long, tumultuous day has proven too much for these old bones,” Polwarth said.

  “A room will be prepared for you,” Tarass said.

  “You are too generous, Lord Tarass. I should at least be in the stocks for what I did.”

  “I agree and would oblige you, but my wife would come to your rescue and free you even if she had to sneak out of the keep in the middle of the night, paying no heed to her blindness, to do so. On that, I am certain.”

  Polwarth smiled. “I can see Snow doing that and succeeding.”

  Fear poked at Tarass at the thought of his wife doing such a dangerous thing.

  “There is food and drink in the Great Hall for you and your men.”

  “My two men who followed my orders. What will happen to them?” Polwarth asked.

  “While again, I would see them at least suffer the stocks for a few days, they brought no harm to my wife so I will let them go unpunished, not something I would usually do. Though, know this, Lord Polwarth. You owe me and some day you will repay me.”

  “On that you have my word,” Lord Polwarth said.

  Tarass ordered the evening meal brought to his bedchamber. It arrived well before he did, a few matters delaying his return to his wife. However, he was glad to see Snow sitting at the small table, big enough for him and her alone, and piled with food that Snow was enjoying.

  “You’re hungry tonight,” he said and chuckled, since she couldn’t see him smile.

  “Very hungry,” she admitted, her cheeks turning pink at how much food she had put in her bowl.

  “I’m pleased to hear that, since I’m feeling the same and look forward to stuffing myself,” he said and leaned over her to kiss her li
ps. He came away, licking them. “Meat pie, a favorite of mine.”

  “Hurry. Sit and tell me all,” Snow urged impatient to hear what had been discussed.

  “First you will tell me how your knee does,” he said.

  “It feels much better, and the pain is not as bad when I stand, and the swelling has gone down quite a bit.”

  Tarass lifted her and the chair with ease, turning it away from the table. “I’ll see for myself.”

  Snow lifted her nightdress, Nettle had helped her into, exposing her knee.

  Tarass flinched, seeing the bruise that had deepened considerably, though she’d been right about the swelling. It had gone down. It made him want to go and beat Polwarth senseless.

  “His kick wasn’t meant for me, and I would suffer anything to protect Thaw,” she said, able to see, fuzzy though it was, his brow narrow in anger since he was so close to her.

  “Thaw is there to protect you,” Tarass scolded.

  “He’s only a pup,” she reminded.

  “And he will never grow into a warrior if you don’t let him,” Tarass said and kissed her before she could respond, then lifted her and the chair to settle her at the table.

  Snow gave thought to the wisdom of his words.

  Once Tarass sat, he didn’t waste any time. He told her everything Polwarth and he had discussed in between enjoying the delicious fare.

  “I didn’t think he had anything to do with the pools of blood. The myth belongs to your mum’s people so it would make sense the person responsible is of that origin,” Snow said.

  “I doubted it as well, but I needed to ask. The puzzle goes unsolved,” Tarass said, frustrated that even the smallest clue eluded him.

  “This snow doesn’t help. It limits travel and discussion with others who may be of help,” Snow said, enjoying the tasty heather ale. “I can’t help but wonder if that man with the many markings had news for you.”

  “What makes you think that?” Tarass asked.

  “He and Finn suffered the same fate and Finn had news for you, so it makes one wonder if the man with the markings also had news for you.”

  Tarass enjoyed talking with his wife. She had a sharp mind, sometimes seeing things he didn’t.

  Snow scratched her head and narrowed her eyes in thought. “I wish we could make sense of the pools of blood. Are they a message of some sort? Or are they meant to instill fear and weaken your leadership? It would help to know the why since it could lead us to the who.”

  They continued talking, conversation eventually turning to things they did when young and more laughter than talk followed.

  Snow yawned once or twice, but when her yawns grew Tarass took note and saw what he hadn’t noticed before, how tired she was. And why wouldn’t she be with the day she had.

  “You need to sleep,” he said.

  “First, I need you,” she said with a smile that tempted.

  Tarass stretched out of his chair and went to her, scooping her up in his arms. “That’s not going to happen tonight, wife. You need to rest.”

  Snow laughed softly and nibbled at his neck before whispering playfully, “You’re not going to win this one, husband.”

  And he didn’t.

  Chapter 30

  Snow woke and smiled, seeing the wood ceiling overhead. It was a bit blurry but she could make it out just as she could her surroundings, and it all was in color. Her gray, drab world was gone. Now she saw colors, wonderful, beautiful colors.

  Her sight had continued to improve in the last three weeks, though she had continued to keep the news to herself. She worried it wouldn’t last and her sight would be lost to her again. Instead, her sight had continued to improve and if it improved no more than it had to this point, she’d still be grateful.

  Her hand went to her queasy stomach and her smile grew. More time would confirm it, but she was pretty sure she was with child. She had thought it too early for any signs that she carried a bairn to show, then she recalled what her mum had told her one day.

  I remember I knew right away you were growing inside me. I got a queasy stomach every morning as soon as my monthly bleeding was late. Then I would get hungry and want to eat and then the queasiness would return again.

  Snow was glad her mum had spoken to her about it. She didn’t want her daughters to be ignorant about the way of things for women.

  Their mum had taught them well.

  Snow turned and snuggled her face against her husband’s pillow. He was usually there when she woke and the one who woke first usually stirred the other awake in an intimately, delightful fashion. This morning, however, Rannock had come for Tarass with an important message he’d been waiting for, and he had left.

  All had been quiet since the incident with Lord Polwarth and Abbot Bennett. No other pools of blood had shown up or dead bodies. Runa had examined Cleric Norman’s body and there had been no signs of any injury. The assumption was that the snowstorm had caused him to wander off course and he froze to death. Tarass had a troop of his warriors return the body to the monastery.

  While Snow was pleased the problems that had plagued them seemed to have settled, she continued to be concerned over the threat from the supposed creature. Was this lull on purpose? Did someone want Tarass to let his guard down?

  Snow sat up and glanced around the room. She was completely alone, Thaw having gone with Tarass and it too early for Nettle to arrive. She recalled how Lord Polwarth had almost whisked her away so easily, but she needn’t worry about that happening again. Tarass had seen that the secret passage was made impassable. He’d also posted sentinels in the area where it was located in case there were others who knew of it.

  She was safe in her home, safe with her husband around. She also felt safer with her sight having been almost fully restored. At least, she could see if any danger lurked nearby.

  With her stomach settling, she knew what to expect next. She got hungry and couldn’t wait to eat, since she knew the queasiness could return at any time. She got out of bed with a spring to her step, her knee having healed nicely, and began to dress, her stomach grumbling.

  Tarass sat with Rannock in his solar. The warriors he had sent to find out what news Finn had learned had finally returned. It hadn’t been easy but they had been successful in their mission, and the news had left him troubled.

  Tarass had listened intently to the two warriors tell him what they had learned. It was a brief message.

  A man with markings is on his way to you. He knows the truth about your parents’ deaths and he knows the one responsible. There is also one in your clan who knows the truth.

  “Someone in the clan knows the truth,” Rannock said, repeating part of the news. “If only the man with the markings had made it here alive. This all would be solved.” Rannock shook his head. “How do you find out now about your parents’ deaths?”

  “I find the one in the clan who knows the truth,” Tarass said. “The traitor among us. The one who poses as a dwarf and brings fright to the clan. Though, I doubt this person works alone.”

  “How do we find this person? It’s not like anyone is going to step forward and admit it.”

  “Unless forced to,” Tarass said.

  Rannock went to question again, but stopped a moment his brow shooting up. “Well-placed rumors certainly can have people speaking up.”

  “Precisely, and you can get that rumor started now,” Tarass said, standing. “Go find Nettle and tell her to make sure she starts it as a whisper, as if no one is to know about it. That will spread it faster. Tell her that I search for someone who harbors information vital to the clan’s safety. That should get people questioning things they see or hear.”

  Rannock’s smile spread wide. “Nettle will have the rumor spread in no time with her never-ending chatter.”

  “That’s what I’m counting on,” Tarass said. standing. “I’m going to wake my wife, so make certain to keep Nettle occupied and away from my bedchamber for a while.”

  Snow was
slipping her shift over her head when she heard the door open. She turned hastily, suddenly fearful from her experience with Lord Polwarth of who it might be, and got her face tangled in the shift.

  Tarass smiled at his wife’s predicament, though was glad for it, his hands eager to roam her naked body.

  “You’ll not be needing that, wife, at least not yet,” Tarass said as he approached her.

  Snow sighed with relief and smiled, and she stopped fighting the garment. She wasn’t surprised when it was yanked off her.

  Her husband’s face was still fuzzy, though not the blue of his eyes, so bright and bold. They were clear when he was this close to her, and seeing them always sent a tingle through her.

  Tarass settled his hands on her waist and was about to kiss her when her hand suddenly went to her stomach and she paled. He lifted her gently in his arms and went to the bed to sit with her on his lap.

  “Not feeling well?” he asked, concerned since this had been happening each morning when she woke.

  “It will pass,” she said and laid her head on his shoulder.

  “There’s no denying it. You’re with child,” Tarass said with a smile. It waned when he saw her grow paler.

  “I believe so,” she said, her smile wide.

  He rested his hand to her stomach. “I am thrilled beyond belief that our child grows inside you, but I hate seeing you suffer like this.”

  “My mum suffered the same carrying me, but it passed after a while,” she assured him.

  He grabbed the blanket and wrapped it around her. “Let’s get you into bed.”

  “No, I want to stay in your arms,” she insisted. “Tell me what took you from our bed so early this morning.”

  He knew she wanted her mind taken off her roiling stomach and he obliged her. Besides, he didn’t want to let her go. He wanted to hold her close and do whatever he could to help her feel better.

  Tarass explained everything to her along with his plan to find the one in the clan who betrayed him.

 

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